


Entirely Intoxicating

by DforDanika



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DforDanika/pseuds/DforDanika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alcohol and jealousy don't seem to digest well with you. Especially when it comes to Chloe Beale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entirely Intoxicating

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: this fic has also been posted under my fanfiction.net username of TakeItAsItComes. Different names- same person. Not stealing stuff. 
> 
> Please also be aware that Beca smokes briefly in this fic. Sorry if that offends or grosses you out, but if you don't like it, you don't have to read it.
> 
> Cheers all!  
> Danika

The music is thudding. Busy conversation. Loudness all around you. You see her. The older girl. Fiery locks grabbing your attention. The girl you can’t help but keep your eyes on. Glued. She’s overly animated in some form of drunken conversation with some random guy who probably won’t remember her name tomorrow. She doesn’t seem to notice. She flirts. A touch on his bicep. A slow sultry sweep of the eyes, raking him over. Until those eyes follow through, landing on yours from across the crowded room. And it’s all very strange. Because she’s looking at you and she’s not looking away. Her eyes are lingering for mere moments longer than they should. It's too much. You're the first to avert eye-contact. And suddenly you need air. 

The night air outside on the back porch just isn’t quite soothing enough. One swift spark from your lighter and the smoke from your cigarette fills your lungs and the nicotine calms your mind. It’s fine. Well really, it’s not. “You know that’s horrendously bad for your voice.” Chloe’s voice scolds inside your head. There she goes again. In your head. You’re not sober enough to tell yourself to know better, and you're not wasted enough to not care. Drunk enough though, to not be able to filter _her_ out of your brainwaves. 

You resign yourself to the steps in front of you, taking the brief moment of silence to look into the darkness.

“Shut. Up.” you mutter under your breath, as you take another soothing drag.

Even when she's not here, she still manages to invade your mind. The way she has this pull on you. It drives you mad. Because no one ever gets in the way she has. If it weren't for the attentive touches in rehearsal, the constant invasion your personal space, the fact that she seems to always deliberately catch your eye just to smile at you from across the room _and_ the fact you've seen her completely and unabashedly naked; these persistent thoughts and feelings wouldn't be so frustratingly difficult to control. Yes. If it weren't for those simple and inconvenient factors, you would be completely and utterly free of thoughts in anyway shape or form related to Chloe Beale. Fuck.

“Uh -who are you talking to?” Interrupts a male voice.

You turn briefly to confirm your suspicions as to the identity of the voice's owner.

"Ahh hey. Just me and my bad self, Jesse." 

"Wassup with you, crazy kid? You're seeming a bit more anti-social tonight than usual." He jests, plonking down to sit next to you, handing you a cup of beer.

"What an asshole." you tease, taking a sip of your newly acquired beverage.

"You love it."

"Always."

He pulls you in for a side to side hug, as you let your head fall to his shoulder. He knows something's up. And he knows who it's up about.

"It's her again, isn't it?"

"Jesssss...."

"What...! You get all mopey and boozy when it's about her. You're so dark and tortured."

"Have I mentioned that you're an asshole? Because you're an asshole."

"Why not just down a few more shots, bed the girl- get all this sexual tension bullshit out in the open and get on with our lives?"

"Says the hopeless romantic."

"Come on Becs. Stop wallowing. I hate to play the tough love card, but if all you're going to do every time you see her like this is run away with your tail between your legs, you'll never know what you're missing."

"What I'm missing? Like the inevitable and total heart break of her laughing in my face because she's straight?"

"Yeah, right. If Chloe's straight, then so is Ricky Martin. Honestly dude, go get your gaydar fixed."

"Jesse," You scoff "did you not see her in there will biceps-for-brains? She's totally prowling. For penis. Prowling for penis, Jess."

"As if you've never shacked up with a dude because you're bored. Dude. _We_ did it. It happens."

"That was _one_ time. As besties. It was bestie-sex. And in my defense, tequila was definitely _not_ my friend that night."

"Yeh let's not do that again in a hurry, okay? No matter how high the 'bored' is. It's just awkward. I mean I love you, I really do. But you're just _so_ gay."

"Gee, Thanks man. And you totally love the awkward, you perv." You lean your head back on his shoulder, as you butt your cigarette on the step beneath you.

"Way awkward." 

"You're mom's awkward..!" comes a drunken interruption from behind the pair of you.

"Oh snap." Jesse shoots back at Chloe, who is now using the wall for stability. "Need some help holding up the wall there Chlo, or are you good on your own there?"

"Shut up." She stands up straight as to prove her point "I'm not _that_ drunk." She adds an eyeroll just for dramatic effect.

"Aw shiiit," Jesse exclaims excitedly "Did you see that Becs, she just did a you!"

"Must be rubbing off on me." Chloe says as she goofily sticks her tongue out.

"Yeh, _you_ wish." Jesse mutters to you under his breath. To which you jab him sharply with your elbow and silently mouth the words _"Fuck. You"_

"Well kids! I'm going to go top myself up." he says, gesturing at his own now-empty cup. "I'll leave you ladies to it!"

"PS," he adds, "she's going to kill you for smoking." loud enough for Chloe to hear, before conveniently exiting.

Clambering to your feet, you half-heartedly flip him off just as he crosses the threshold of the doorway. He blows you a kiss in return as he disappears back inside.

"You've been smoking again...?" Chloe leans in to smell it on you. She has this way of making you feel like such a terrible person.

"Jesus Chloe..." you cautiously duck away from her.

"Becaaaaaaaaaa..." she whines in disapproval.

"C'mon Chlo... You know it's only when I'm reallydrunk or reallystressed... and currently, I am _both_. So just ---cool the fire there, Red."

"Well, are you going to talk to me about it...?" she presses casually.

"What? About why I'm drunk? Well, beer and shots and Fat Amy's "goon" games happened- and well, here we are…" You think you’re being cunning by dodging the more in-depth conversation.

"Cute. C'mon Bec you know that's not what I meant."

"Doesn't matter." You blatantly dismiss. "Anyway. What happened to your new _friend?_ " It comes out with more bitterness than you intended to let on.

"What friend?"

"Jocky McJockstrap. Y'know, With the Popeye arms." You flex your own spaghetti-like arm to try to prove your point. You scan the doorway behind Chloe, expecting said douche-bag to stumble out after her at any moment.

She giggles. Actually giggles. Adorable. "Who..? Brad?"

"Oh Jesus. His name is _actually_ Brad. That's amazing. Is he the quarterback too?" you deadpan.

"So what if he is...?"

"That's very cliché of you." 

"What's that supposed to mean."

“It’s just very _fitting_ , is all. Pretty girl, frat boy... Now tell me, will it be his dorm, or yours that you’ll wind up at tonight? We’ll all at least want to know where to find you in the morning for cardio.” Wow. You're not even sure why you're being so callous all of a sudden. It's something about the lethal combination of alcohol and jealousy that's deciding to rear its ugly head. And Chloe, it seems is getting caught in the crossfire.

“Uh, excuse me.” she arcs up. “Since when has that been any of your business?”

“Um, do you not remember that one of our first encounters included you intruding in on my _shower_ while you were with your boy toy of the week? Pretty sure it’s been my business since then whether I liked it or not. You don’t exactly do discreet very well...” The second it leaves you, you know you’re pushing the bar.

"Wow. Okay." She looks genuinely hurt. "So, are you going to explain to me why you’re being such a _bitch_?"

“Bitch? Me? Just saying what I feel, Chloe.” You offer dryly.

“Beca Mitchell _never_ says what she feels to me. Ever. I know you well enough to know that I pretty much have to force any sort of verbal feelings out of you.”

“That well, huh.” You mutter as you busy yourself downing the rest of the drink in your hand, crushing the empty cup and flicking it carelessly to the ground.

“Why are you pushing me away? It's like you can't stand me anymore!” she snaps. “Stop hiding behind your passive aggressive bullshit and say what you _really_ mean. For god's sake, you’re basically just calling me a slut right now. What are you, 16??"

You have single handedly managed to piss off the happiest person on the planet. And it's honestly kind of scary.

"Beca what's going on with you lately?” she continues. “It's like every time I walk into a room these days, you do your best to either avoid me, ignore me or leave. What happened to the Beca who actually used to speak to me? Who actually enjoyed spending time with me? The Beca who wanted to talk to me on the phone until 2am about nothing in particular, _just because_. Who let me wear her favorite headphones when no one else is allowed to even touch them? I thought we were friends. I thought you… I thought …Look, if I've done something to upset you, I'm sorry, truly I am. But I cannot fix whatever it is you're mad at me for, if you don't tell me what it is! I have no idea what's going on with you anymore! I can't read your mind, you know. As much as you think I can, I can't. And when you keep deliberately shutting me out all the time, it's impossible for me to even _try._ "

Well that was certainly called for. What’re you supposed to say to that? “ _Oh my bad, long story short it’s actually because I think I’m falling for you, and that makes me crazy-jealous_? No. Way.

“I… I'm... sorry." You offer. It's meek. It's soft. It's barely audible. But it's true. You know Chloe isn’t clueless, but she's picked up on you acting like a complete dick and she's ripping you a new one for it.

"Yeah, okay. That'll do." she spits back at you in an uncharacteristically sarcastic tone. She sighs, her shoulders drop in defeat. "Look. Just forget it. When you have something else to say to me, you know where to find me." As she turns to leave, something boils up in you. If she goes back inside, she'll probably end up going home with Brad-the-quarterback. And you'll inevitably end up crying in bed later tonight thinking about how you let her go- _again- w_ allowing in your own self-loathing and pity for the rest of forever.

"Wait..!" It escapes you. She pauses, her back still facing you; awaiting a response worth staying for.

"Please, Chloe. Just -please...wait." Pause. You take what feels like the hugest, longest breath you’ve ever inhaled. Cue word vomit.

"I’m just _so_ mad. At you... Mostly at _me_. It pisses me off, because you're so much better than that ass in there, who doesn’t even know you. Dammit Chloe, this is just so much to handle and sometimes, I don't even think I can. Do you know how much I think about you? How often you’re on my mind and in my head? All the time. Likeall the _it-makes-me-sick-to-think-about-how-cliché-it-is_ time _._ I’m not used to female friends- you _know_ this. I've only had _girlfriends_ , and with you that line between the two is so blurred, it scares the shit out of me. …Look. I…. _like_ you. Like, I really, really _like_ you.” You try to gauge any sort of response from the redhead standing across from you. Nothing. She’s just staring.

“Chloe, despite all this,” you gesture between the two of you, “you have to understand that I don't want us to ever not be friends. I'd rather selfishly have you in my life as that little bit of shattered hope, than to not have you in it at all. You're pretty much one of the best people I know, even though you’re a complete weirdo and social deviant and you bust in on peoples’ showers. Regardless of anything, you _have_ to know how special you are. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry if this messes things up with us. I’m sorry for being such a jealous jerk and being horrible and… yeah. Just. Sorry."

All you can hear is the distant thud from the music inside. A silence falls between the two of you that you’ve never experienced like this before.

“…Okay” You break the tension. “So now that _that_ is... out there. I’m going to go.” You need to leave. This is just going to end badly. Run.

As you make your way to flee past her, you feel her grab your sleeve to tug you back.

“Wait..!” She offers in desperation. Then you see it. Those blue as blue orbs of hers are lined in red. Whether that’s alcohol or emotion induced, you do not know. 

It doesn’t make sense. The look she gives you appears to not be that of the rejection you had shielded yourself for. It looks more like a-- _Finally._

She shifts closer to you. You freeze. What is actually going on? She inches her face toward your own, eyes darting between your lips and your eyes. She stills, her eyes probing deep into your own, daring you to finish what you’ve started.

You close the gap between you, claiming her. Your lips are on hers, and hers are on yours. You can’t help but feel apologetic for the fact that you must taste like a fire grate. But in all fairness, she tastes more like a fruity distillery than you had anticipated. The rush that goes to your head is stronger than any cigarette hit. It's all very pleasant an innocent, chaste even. To start with, at least. Your sleeve falls from where it was held in her grip and you are quick to let your hands settle on her sides, pulling her closer. It's actually happening. This moment between she and you. In a way, it's not fair losing control like this. You're getting so wound up in her. Getting hot and needy. There seems to be all too much space between you, even though you are mere inches apart. You circle the pads of your thumbs over where they are resting on her hips, caressing her; almost possessively. She's not going to get away. Not now. In a sudden rush of boldness and fever, you push her against the brick pillar of the porch, pressing flush against her body, a hand snaking up to the nape of her neck to pull her mouth more desperately to your own. The feel of her every curve against yours is entirely intoxicating. You need more. You slip your tongue into her mouth, and suddenly the dance for dominance has begun.

You slither a hand underneath the thin material of her shirt, skimming your hand up toned skin to caress just below the material of her bra. You feel her sharply suck in air against your lips as you cup her breast eagerly. Your hot kisses trail from her mouth, down her jaw line, all down her neck settling down near her collarbone. You kiss. You suck. You bite. Not so hard as to draw blood, but certainly hard enough to leave a mark. Chloe moans aloud from the surprise jolt of arousal it sends her. Jesus. You could hear that sound forever. You feel her slip her thigh between your own as she deliberately presses into you, just _there_.

"Fuccckk." you hiss at the sudden contact. You pin her harder to the wall with a surge forward of your own, your hips rocking up to meet her.

She sighs into you as she claims your lips back feverishly with her own, one hand tangled messily in your hair, the other fumbling with the hem of your shirt. Her hands wander. Everywhere. It’s not until one begins to knead your breast, mirroring your own actions on her, that you realize just how far gone you are.

You reluctantly break away, panting from need, Chloe whimpering at the sudden loss.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” you sigh, not believing your own words as Chloe persistently peppers light kisses down your neck.

“Hmm… definitely shouldn’t.”

“Seriously. What if we get caught?” you say in an attempt to focus.

“That’s the hottest part.” she growls seductively into your ear. That alone is enough to undo you. “And just because we shouldn’t, doesn’t mean we can’t” She sucks your ear lobe ever so enticingly, leaving her hot breath on the exposed skin; there’s nothing you can do to stop the shiver that rolls through your body.

“Oh, fuck it.” You crash you mouth upon hers.

“Me.” She mumbles into your mouth, hands returning to your chest to eagerly slip underneath your bra. You sigh at the contact on bare skin as you try to muster up the willpower to speak.

“Excuse me?”

“I think you meant fuck _me.”_ She says, completely unabashed. 

_“_ Oh that was _bad.”_ You smirk.

“You have no idea.” She grins, rolling a nipple gently between her thumb and fingers.

“Jesus, Chloe” you whimper. Biting down hard on your bottom lip.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She sighs, bucking her hips up. “Touch me.” She purrs.

You definitely don’t need to be told twice.

The button of her jeans easily pops open as you tug the zipper down and tease the newly exposed skin just below the hem of her shirt. You trace feather light patterns as you trail your hand further down, tormenting the redhead with the slow pace. Chloe’s breath is hitched in anticipation, panting unsteadily as you continue your journey downward. Your fingers dip below the elastic of her underwear, delving further down toward her centre. You are a little too pleased with yourself when you’re greeted with just how wet she is. You feel her gasp as you make your first contact to the most sensitive bundle of nerves, skimming over it lightly, teasing with the lightest of touches.

“Please.” She whines, looking deeply into your stare; begging.

And honest to god, it’s one of the sexiest, hottest, most beautiful expressions you’ve ever seen play across Chloe Beale’s face.

You press against the sensitive bud, the pressure you apply jolts her whole body. Her eyes flutter shut as a blissful sigh escapes her lips. She draws shallow breaths, an audible sigh with each circle of her clit. A throaty moan escapes her, head tilting back as you slip two digits into her, hooking them up and setting an enticingly heady pace. You find yourself grinding against her outstretched thigh, your own body willing you to release the pent up frustration. The contact causes you to sigh out into her mouth. The friction of your hips rocking against her, paired with the steady thrusts of your digits inside her, brings a mutual rhythm that she can’t help but release a guttural groan in approval of.

You shove your free hand over her mouth, reminding her of the importance of her silence.

She places hot, sloppy, need-filled kisses onto your palm as you continue to plunge into her. She takes one of your fingers into her mouth, sucking it in and out in an attempt to distract you. It drives you crazy. You feel her teeth lightly brush against the digit and you can’t take this game. You remove your hand from her mouth and use it instead, to pull her head forcefully toward your own. Your lips crash to hers and you feel the hum of her surprised moan, buzz into your lips.

“Ohmygod…. Ohmygod…. Oh….my….g---.” Her high pitched whispers and sighs surge you on, building and building as you’re pushing her closer and closer to the edge. You keep thrusting into her, hard and fast. You begin to circle her clit again, this time with your thumb.

Chloe’s body shifts. She juts her thigh out at an odd angle, the change in contact making your head spin as she presses impossibly closer to you. You grunt into her hair. Your pending release is creeping up on you all too quickly. You feel your own movements become wilder, your need for relief clouds your mind as you rock haphazardly against her, digits curled inside her, your thumb persisting its pressure on her clit. You feel yourself losing whatever control you have as everything suddenly comes crumbling down.

And there it goes. Your whole body seizes up. You shudder, biting down hard on her neck to keep from releasing your groan out loud. You are so incredibly intoxicated by everything she is. You hear a small squeal escape Chloe’s lips as she responds to the pleasurable pain of your teeth against her flesh.

“Bec...” she whimpers desperately. It almost sounds like a question. ”I’m… I…”

Words fail her. You feel her walls tighten around you and feel the pressure of her death grip on your shoulder as she violently comes, orgasm brutally sweeping over her. Her mouth hangs wide, taught and yet completely silent, her eyes squeezed shut as she withholds the scream she so eagerly would have expelled had you not been in public. She lets out a tiny squeak. All of that silence condensed into the smallest sound. You feel the shudder wrack through her whole body as she rides out the epic wave with rugged breath.

With a sense of calm finally returning to you, you lean your forehead against hers, moving to trail soothing kisses along her jaw line as you gently coax her back to reality. Her breathing steadies as she eventually regains her balance, fixes herself up then leans back into. You pull her in close as she repeatedly places gentle kisses to your lips.

“Hi.” She smiles lazily at you.

“Hey.”

“That was-“

“I know.” You smirk.

“Just for the record, this means I like you back.” She whispers into your ear, nipping the lobe slightly and making you shiver again. Dammit if that’s not your kryptonite.

You press your mouth to hers and feel her smile into the kiss. And  _that's_  honestly the best feeling you've felt all night.


End file.
